


Static

by imzoe_fuckit



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Dancer Louis, Fights, Flashbacks, Injured Louis, M/M, Post-Break Up, Post-Car Accident, Reunion, Zayn is just mentioned, i guess, maybe idk, no death i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:13:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3261218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imzoe_fuckit/pseuds/imzoe_fuckit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"My days end best when this sunset gets itself</i><br/><i>Behind that little lady sitting on the passenger side</i><br/><i>It's much less picturesque without her catching the light</i><br/><i>The horizon tries but it's just not as kind on the eyes"</i><br/> </p><p>It's been awhile, but Harry still remembers what it was like having Louis next to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Static

**Author's Note:**

> So I was looking through all the old stuff I had written for creative writing class and I found this and edited it and decided to post. It's short and based kinda off the song Arabella by the Arctic Monkeys which is what the summary is from.

The snow was falling and the air was chilly even though the heater was on. It was old and really only succeeded in making it smell like something was burning. The wipers were moving, so each time a new dusting of flakes stuck to the windshield, they were wiped away messily, leaving water streaks behind that were hard to see through.

Harry was humming to nothing but a song in his head. The radio hadn’t been used since the time Louis turned it off, probably more than two years earlier, stating that he much preferred soft conversation over static-filled tunes. Sometimes he would sing the song he was learning to dance to. It might have been slightly off key because singing was not his passion, but Harry would smile and offer words of encouragement regardless. It had been months since he had seen Louis, but he still couldn’t bring himself to turn the old thing on. There were times that a passenger who didn’t know would try to push the dusty black button and Harry’s arm would shoot out like a snake to stop them. He would mumble something like, “I don’t use the radio,” and leave it at that. It was sort of his way of keeping Louis present with him.

He wanted to remember every moment he had with Louis, but the last one. No matter how hard Harry tried, he couldn’t seem to keep it from his mind. It haunted him in the quiet and clung to his thoughts without mercy. There was no snow then, only the blazing summer sun beating down on them. He could almost feel its rays on his skin in that moment, on top of the goosebumps.

 

_  
The windows were rolled down and the wind was warm on their faces. They could hear some birds’ songs and other cars whooshing by. Harry knew he was zoning out in the peaceful atmosphere, but he couldn’t bring himself to care._

_“You didn’t hear a word I just said did you?” Louis laughed and Harry could have sworn it blended in with the birdsong._

_“Sorry, I’ve just been in my head today.”_

_“It’s okay.”_

_He grabbed Harry’s hand, and Harry looked at him fondly, forgetting momentarily that he was supposed to be driving. Really it was just a split second, and it wasn’t Harry’s fault. At least that’s what everyone told him._

_The other car blew through the intersection with no consideration of whose lives it was ruining. Harry had no choice but to watch. It slammed into the passenger side. It wasn’t a crunch, it didn’t happen in slow motion like all the movies show. It was deafening, it was so fast Harry barely knew what was happening. All he knew was Louis was clutching his hand until the spinning stilled, and then it grew slack. It wasn’t a bad enough hit to total the car, but it did other irreparable damage._

_A few weeks later, Louis’s roommate had dropped a small bag of his stuff off and picked up Louis’s box with barely a word. He only had to look at his with a question in his eyes and Zayn answered with a short, “He’s better.” Harry wished he would have stayed longer, told him exactly what “better” meant. He wanted to ask, but he knew he wasn’t allowed to. Louis hadn’t wanted to see him at all since the accident, and it was apparent all of his friends had been sworn to secrecy. All he could do was accept it._

_It took him another couple weeks to unpack the bag. It was only three things. Three small things he would never have remembered he had; a toothbrush, a tee shirt, and a coffee mug. He threw them all away. He already had a toothbrush in a cup next to his sink, the tee shirt smelled of Louis’s cologne, and the mug was stained with the tea that he loved but Harry had never quite frown a taste for.  
_

 

He took a deep breath of the cool air to calm his nerves as he parked in front of a familiar building. His hands were shaking, more from nerves than from his lack of gloves. It took longer than Harry would like to admit for him to get up the courage to actually go inside. He didn’t take in the portraits on the walls or the soft music echoing through the hallway, only the door at the end. His footsteps blended in with the beat of the song and made him feel more powerful, less intimidated. Harry could almost convince himself he could do this.

He tried to open the door as quietly as he could because Harry could remember the first time he came, and the door had banged loudly against the wall as every head in the room shot up. The girl on the stage was beautiful in her movements, large and arching, in sync to the music. He reminded him of Louis, but the stage was too big for this girl, her presence couldn’t fill the large area like Louis could.

It was hard for him to tear his eyes away from her, but he did. Scanning the mostly empty seats, he found Louis in the back hunched over trying to hide his face because he knew he wasn’t supposed to be there. He didn’t look up until Harry was seated next to him.

“Why are you here?” He asked him.

“Why are you?”

Louis shrugged, “Not sure. Did Zayn call you?”

“Yeah, he said you just left without saying anything, he was worried.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell him where I’m going all the time, I don’t need a babysitter.”

He raised a brow, “Don’t you? You’re here. Nobody wants that for you.”

“Well, maybe that’s what I want. If I can’t dance anymore, I at least want to watch it.”

Their hushed tones didn’t travel more than a few seats in each direction as not to disturb the art happening on the stage. Louis hadn’t looked at Harry since he sat down, still watching the dancer, and Harry hadn’t taken his eyes off of Louis.

“Who drove you here?”

He shook his head slightly, “I walked.”

Harry took in his appearance. Slightly damp hair, red nose, and most importantly, lack of coat. It was stupid of him to walk all that way from his apartment to the studio in almost negative temperatures, and Louis had never been stupid before. There wasn’t really anything he could say that wouldn’t be taken as out of line, or overprotective.

“Did the self-destructive behavior start right after the accident, or was it gradual?”

“What makes you think you can ask me that?”

Harry huffed a little louder than he probably should have and looked around to make sure no one else heard it.

“Why shouldn’t I? I’m worried about you.”

“You don’t get to be worried about me anymore. How did you even know I would be here?” Louis questioned. Really it was unnecessary, they both knew how. There was no other place he would be.

“Because I remember.”

“Yeah,” he paused, “Me too.”

Harry had tried not to ask the question that had been bubbling inside of him since he sat down, but he was never very good with self-control.

“Why wouldn’t you see me?” He wasn’t specific, but he didn’t need to be.

Louis shrugged.

“No. You don’t get to do that this time. I’m not going to let you brush me off without an answer.”

Harry wished it wasn’t so quiet in the room because all he wanted was to shake his shoulders and demand answers, but he also knew Louis wouldn’t respond to it. He would retreat inside himself and Harry would never get the answers he had wanted for months.

“I’m not sure what you want me to say, no answer I give you is going to be good enough.”

“Try me.”

“I blamed you.”

Harry froze and the doctors words circled around his head, It was an accident, you couldn’t have stopped it. He had asked, but that wasn’t the answer he had wanted to hear.

“But-,” he started.

“I know it wasn’t your fault, but I needed someone to blame, someone tangible, not the idea of another driver. It was easier for me to process that way.”

Harry briefly closed his eyes and relished the darkness behind his lids and the music in the air.

“Do you still blame me?”

Louis shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t think I really blame anyone anymore. I think I just needed some time.”

“But that doesn’t change anything does it?”

“No, it doesn’t. Maybe someday it could be different, but I’m still not ready.”

His words showed some hope, but his tone gave Harry all the answer he needed.

“Let me at least drive you home then,” it wasn’t a question, but Louis nodded anyway.

As they walked from the building, Harry noticed the limp in his step and the slight hunch of his shoulders. He immediately blamed himself. The way he held himself was so different, so unlike his old dancer’s grace. He was then so much more aware of how much the accident had cost Louis.

Harry opened the door for him and when he sat, he noticed how still Louis had gotten.

“Are you okay?”

He could sense the stubbornness in the way he forcibly raised himself a couple inches higher and stared out the windshield. “I’m fine. Just drive.”

It was still snowing and the heater was still broken, but it was different. The silence between the seats was uncomfortable in a way it had never been for them. The lack of conversation and music was almost suffocating, but even then Harry didn’t dare to touch radio. He wanted something about them to be the same. But, as he concentrated harder on the road than he ever had before, barely paying Louis any attention, he noticed the silence was no longer a problem. There was some overplayed song humming in the air and Harry almost forgot how to breathe. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Louis’s hand pulling back from the button that wasn’t dusty anymore and resting back in his lap.

The static cut in and out of the radio every few seconds and Louis rested his head against the cold window finally relieving himself of the stiff, protective posture he was sporting before. He no longer felt familiar like he once had, but like a completely new person. A person that had been created in a hospital bed while a doctor gave his awful news and a boy tried to get in to see him. The boy that he wanted to remember flowed out of the vents that smelled the same with the music that made everything feel different.

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know what you think  
> xx Zoë


End file.
